Eum Domus Nos Erant Sublimis In
by Lora Perry
Summary: The smells. The sounds. The sights. Every moment he's here is just another reminder. Chris knows this will never be his. He will never grow up in this home. This will never be his family.


The smells remind him that this is not his home. His house never smelled of cinnamon and apples and of baby powder. He doesn't think his house smelled of anything. If anything it probably smelled of tension, anger, regret, and above all confusion. For if his house smelled if would not smell sweetly, as if his mother had just finished baking. It would not smell like his father's cologne or his mother's perfume. It would not smell like brotherly smiles or laughter. It would have the scent of no future, of fear, and of betrayal.

Yeah, the smells, Chris knows, remind him that this is not his home, and never would be.

The sounds, in their deafening loudness bring to heart the fact that this home would never be known to him. The echoes of his mother running after his brother, laughing as he falls on his bottom are absent in the home that he grew up in. The voices of his aunts talking, and blabbering on about love, and work and sex were lost in the years to come, and would be exchanged with much darker things. Talk of loss, and death, and him would overshadow anything else. The creaks of the house are the only constant, but even those change. The creaks are louder in the future, and with no brother there to protect Chris from the evils hiding in those sound, he fails to sleep at night.

Even the sights in this house can not be transplanted into any scene in the future. Chris can not remember seeing hugs from his father, o_r seeing his father, _or the twinkle of his mother's eye when she's laughing. He can not remember any scene from his time, from his place of living where his aunts and his mother all sat down together and just sat. No fighting, no screaming, no demon searching, just sitting, taking comfort in each other's presence. All that Chris can remember seeing is tears, and bodies of those aunts, together, even in death. Chris knows of seeing his brother with his father, of his brother with demons, of his brother killing.

Chris knows that this home will never be his. Chris knows that he will go back, (or, perhaps forward) and everything will be right again, ( if he succeeds, but he must) but Chris will never get the smells, or the sounds, or the sights that he knows his brother will grow up with. Chris will never smell his mother's baking in the future that he changed, for he will be all grown up (and slightly scared of a mother whom never died). Chris will never hear the laughter of his cousins as they learn to walk, or listen to Aunt Paige go on and on about magic school for he will be past the time of growing, of learning, and far away from the Halliwell house.

And Chris knows above all, that he will never see as a Halliwell child should see. He will never see the good in everyone (will he even be able to see the good in himself?) He will never see the aunts and his mother grow old (for he fears seeing them, and making it go back to the old way, as if all the evil in the world was his fault) He will never see his father, and the hugs and the twinkle of laughter in the Halliwell matriarch's eye. Chris will never see the love of the manor (and that pains him more than any other)

And it hurts Chris, more than anything. That even if he goes back (or forward) it will never be his. It will never be his family, it will never be his home.

Beacuse how do you go home to a home you never lived in? How you love a family that you thought never loved you? How do you go on when you live waiting for the other shoe to drop? Chris fears the past, he fears the present, and most of all, he fears himself (and his heart, and his mind, that will never forget).

* * *

_eum domus nos erant sublimis in _is Latin for "This house we were raised in" which was somewhat fitting for it contrasted the rasing of Wyatt in Happy!future as opposed to Chris growing up in Bad!future. This whole drabble is based on the idea that _if_ Chris were to return to the future he would not get the new memories copy and pasted into his mind, which is a common thought in stories.

Questions? You really want to tell me how to imporve? Drop me an e-mail. Kennicesays yahoo . com just remove the spaces, and you're good to go.


End file.
